The Writing Process

I have been invited by ChocLit author and Romaniac pal, Laura E James, to take part in a blog hop where we answer a few questions about our writing process. Laura posted last week; it’s fascinating to see how everyone works. You can go to her blog by clicking HERE.

In the meantime, here’s how I do it …

1. What am I working on?

I am currently working on my third full length novel called, Where It All Began. The premises or theme, if you like, of the story is what mothers do for the love of their child; it looks at the extremes of that love and the reasoning behind their actions, both good and bad. There is, of course, some romance and a bit of a mystery.

Screen shot

2. How does my writing differ from others in that genre?

Ooh, a tough question. First of all what genre am I writing in? Romance. Suspense. Mystery. Crime. Women’s fiction. Yes, to all of those, I suppose.  When I was writing my second novel, Closing In, which is currently with my publisher, I was often asked the genre. My reply was that it’s a mixture of romance and crime, so I coined the term ‘crimance’. Where It All Began has those elements too, so I’m carrying on in the same genre of ‘crimance’. How does it differ? I can only say is that I write it my way, with my voice.

3. Why do I write what I do?

That’s a more easy question. I love reading thrillers, whether they are police procedural, suspense or mystery, I really enjoy that sort of story. Equally, I enjoy reading about relationships; all that love and stuff! Combining the two is what I get the most pleasure and satisfaction out of when I’m writing.

books for blog

4. How does my writing process work?

My process has developed over time. These days I like to come up with a theme or a premise first. Once I’ve got that then I can start creating scenarios, mysteries, conflict. The characters seem to come along simultaneously. Sometimes, especially at the early planning stages, there is such a mish-mash of ideas going on in my head that I’m sure if you look at my thoughts, they would resemble an old fashioned jumble sale circa. 1975, about 10 minutes after the doors have opened, where everything is a complete mess, items tossed around, discarded, picked back up again, put in the wrong place and every now and then you find a gem of a buy for 10p. By the time the sale is over, you’ve come away with some great items and some not so great ones. In the safety of your own home you can sort through and decide what to keep and what to put back in for the next jumble sale. Well, that’s my writing process.

Jumble Sale of Thoughts
Jumble Sale of Thoughts

Next week, I’m passing the baton onto my fellow Harper Impulse author, Teresa Morgan who blogs as The Wittering Woman and this is what she says about herself.

I was born and bred in Surrey, but since 1998 I have lived in sunny Weston-super-Mare, North Somerset. I live with my two sons – trying very hard to hold onto my Surrey accent!

I am at my happiest baking cakes, putting proper home cooked dinners on the table (whether the kids eat them or not), reading a good romance, or sitting at my PC emptying the thoughts from my head onto the screen.

I love writing contemporary romance, creating heroes readers will fall in love with. Men who in reality, let’s face it, just don’t exist.  I love creating stories with a touch of escapism.

Written Fireside – His Way Home

Lori Connelly is the mastermind behind this fun round-robin/written fireside story. She began it back in November and each week a different Harper Impulse author has taken up the story  and added their bit. This week it’s my turn.

All the previous weeks’ links are below.

Part 1 : Lori Connelly

Part 2 : Sarah Lefebve 

Part 3 : Zara Stoneley

Part 4 : Lynn Marie Hulsman

Part 5 : Romy Sommer

Part 6 : Jane Lark

Park 7 : Teresa Morgan

Part 8 : Carmel Harrington

His Way Home


Beth swallowed and took a step back. She most certainly wasn’t pregnant and a baby wasn’t in their plans for a few more years. In her mind, she had imagined her and Matthew having children but in New York, not here in the back of beyond.

Alice was looking at her, a peaceful yet intense expression on her face. ‘Your fate is here, on the farm.’ The words were spoken as fact, rather than persuasion. ‘Don’t fight what is to be,’ said Alice, this time resting her hand on Beth’s cheek.

Beth had no idea what happened, but in that moment, it was as if Alice transferred some sort of inner wisdom. Suddenly Beth knew that New York was no longer an option. Whatever was going to happen in the future wasn’t going to happen in the Big Apple. Her and Matthew were needed here.

Matthew’s voice broke her reverie. ‘Could someone tell me what the hell is going on? Please tell me there’s a hidden camera and someone is going to jump out and say it’s some sort of hoax TV show.’ He clasped his hands behind his head and paced the room. ‘Just let me get this straight. I’m in a secret log cabin, which in all the years I’ve lived on this farm, I know jack-shit about.  In said cabin, is my Great Grandfather, who saved my life when I was 12, despite the fact he had been dead for years. Not only that, but my Grandmother, just happens to be here too, who, no offence Grandma Alice,’ he put a hand out in Alice’s direction, ‘but she’s resurrected herself too.’

‘Matthew …’ began Beth, she could see how agitated he was becoming.

Matthew cut in. ‘No, please Beth, I’m just getting to grips here.’ He took a breath. ‘Now, I know I’m the one with the medical qualification here and have brought people back from the dead before, but they had only been dead a few seconds or minutes, not years. Medical science hasn’t come on that quick.’ He stopped pacing and looked at Beth, then Alice and Walter. ‘Oh, but wait, that’s right, you two have travelled through time. Shucks, why didn’t I think of that before?’

Beth moved to his side and gently placed her hand on his arm. ‘I don’t understand all this either, but what other explanation is there? Let’s just run with it.’ She moved his hand to her stomach. ‘Your past is here for our future. And our future is here on the farm.’

He held her gaze and after a second or two spoke. ‘Not NYC?’ His question was a whisper.

She shook her head in reply, her eyes never leaving his.

Walter cleared his throat in a rather exaggerated manner. ‘Erm, I hate to interrupt but your Grandmother and I need to get back to our own times.’

 ~ ~ ~ ~

To be continued next Tuesday by Erin Lawless

And concluded the week after by Mandy Baggot